Partition
by Di LaMerr
Summary: Beyonce's Partition as a moment between Severus and Hermione.


**Warning- Snape as a Daddy Dom, I know ...why can't he be sadistic and awful? Because I don't want him to be. :) Because even a sadist wants love. Because I wrote it tipsy on allergy meds and good wine...because.  
The disclaimer stays, I like it. Anonymous reviews won't change that. I started deleting after the 2nd rude one.  
**

**Disclaimer: This is a derivative work of fiction, based on the Harry Potter series by J.K. Rowling, and loosely on the song Partition by Beyonce. As such, the commercial rights to this work reside with Ms. Rowling, and Mz Knowles. Which means dear reader, that if Ms. Rowling wishes to use an idea from this story or even publish it, she has the right to do so. The rest of you lot need written permission to use any ideas or original characters that appear in this story.**

**Beta-ed by Seren ferch Dafydd, the disclaimer came out of a writer's workshop she did and satisfies UK and US law**  
**She did an amazing job cleaning this up! All mistakes are mine, and probably because I disregarded what she said. **

**This is a rewritten scene to my very first story as a song fic, the muse for this is a wine fueled facebook chat with my girlfriends about said song.  
_ It's smut, nothing to think about._**  
**Story was never posted, don't expect it to be.**

**Partition **

The Wizarding world had gone mad!  
Sixteen years before Severus Snape had walked out of the Wizengamot after being found not guilty of murder, yet fined for "War Crimes." He'd stood and said his piece, leaving many wondering how he'd known such a broad scope of profanity as he railed against the unfair nature of the Ministry and Court.  
He'd left England, and while there were whispers he had been seen panhandling in Paris there was no proof; many thought him dead.

Two months ago, Severus Snape surfaced, standing next to Hermione Granger at a press conference where they had announced his company, DS Industries, had found a cure for those cursed to mental instability by the Cruciatus Curse. They would immediately begin shipping out the potion, which would be free to all that needed it.  
The Americans decided to honor Snape for all he had done as a business magnet, investor, and philanthropist. As a slap in the face to the British Ministry of Magic, they announced they were awarding him the AWPA- American Wizarding Peace Awards for his life's work of bringing not only peace to the Wizarding world, but medical innovation.  
Toby, Severus Tobias Prince Snape, was revered by the Americans; beyond his philanthropic work, he was 007 come alive, a real spy that had effected real change, the man was a star! Surly, large nose, richer than the devil, with an utterly sexy voice; they came courting him.

The first ball Snape came with the war heroine, Hermione Granger on his arm, Potions Mistress Granger, whom he introduced as the D.S. Head of Development. They sat next to each other looking quite serious, and having earnest conversations with those at their table about potions, clinical trials, and war. They ignored those who tried to flirt with them, danced one dance with each other and a scant few with those who asked.  
The gossips looked at their body language, solicitous yet they lacked the look of lovers, no longing looks, no small touches, definitely not lovers. They had forgotten that this man had been a master spy, and this woman had come of age in wartime, the brains of the golden trio! Next to the word duplicitous in the dictionary was a picture of this pair.  
This was their third outing. The press was calling them friends forged during war, what kind of idiots were these journalist? He had been her teacher, she an annoying know it all. Friendship? That wasn't reaching, it was a fabrication! They couldn't stand each other, then.

Hermione smiled at the man she was speaking to, the head of the magical CIA; a touch trailed up her spine, ghostly fingers, Severus. She kept talking to the man explaining the process of the clinical trials that had given them their latest coup in the potions world as goose bumps spread along her arms, the man cut her off politely, bored he excused himself to the bar. The ghostly touch became firmer as she sipped her wine. It was officially questionable if they were going to make it to the after party.  
Severus nodded towards her as the first party goers began a slow trickle out, time to go.

The press was out, cameras flashed, they surged as Severus exited the building. Paparazzi they called them, the accents numerous, all screaming questions at them, mostly him. Severus wished he could banish them as they slid into the car.  
He was on her as the door closed, hand slipping up her skirt, panties disappearing, she moaned into his kiss and opened her legs wider, inviting him to touch, he pulled his hand away smiling at her frustrated growl. The driver glanced in the mirror once, twice, Severus saw but ignored him, having sworn a wand oath to Hermione Dominic was paid to see nothing.  
He grabbed the front of her dress, such a pretty thing; she'd have to order another! He took a firm grasp of the fabric each side of her décolletage and pulled. He smirked at the sound of the fabric ripping, watching her breast spill from the top, nipples taunt.

"Severus!"

"Shush, be a good girl for me Hermione."

She looked at him eyes liquid, yes she would be a very good girl for Severus tonight.  
He sat back, with a flick opening the placket of his pants, black silk peeking out; cameras flashed outside Hermione's gaze didn't falter. He ran his thumb along her smudged lips. He didn't need to say a word. She slid between his knees running her face against the wool of his pants, fingers pealing the silk back.  
She lowered her head. He raised the partition.

Her mascara was running, fat tears streaming down her cheeks she was choking on him. His hand fisted in her hair kept her in place, although she didn't fight. He released her hair, she knew what he liked; she took a breath and swallowed him again. She looked at him from her knees between his legs, streaks of mascara on her face, either of them could have cleaned it with a simple charm- neither did. He liked seeing her like this, unmade by him. What pleased him pleased her.

He offered his hand helping her up wrapping her nakedness in his jacket, and pressing a handkerchief into her hand, before putting himself away, and rolling the partition down.

"How much longer?" asked Severus.

"Twenty minutes Mr. Prince."

"Thank you," replied Severus.

She was so wet between her legs glistened as she spread them, he inserted one finger.

"Who's pussy this little girl?"

His voice was louche, he felt her tighten around his finger.

"Yours Daddy," said Hermione softly.

He smiled at her using his other hand to push her back onto the leather seat,

"And you'll be oh so good for Daddy won't you?"

Her nod was frenzied, nipples hardened to pebbles as she watched him, her cunny clenched so tightly she felt the rush of moisture bathe his finger; he made her lick it clean. Those eyes stayed on her as he dipped his head down, his tongue tracing her lips, then a quick flick against her opening up onto her clit. She moved, he laid a hard swat along her hip.  
She shivered, anticipation making her pant. Usually he would have played with her, teasing licks driving her mad with want. He waited, eyes watching her rapidly rising breast before he dipped his head again, capturing her clit between his lips, she moaned throwing her head back as he once again slipped his finger in. A second finger joined the first and he made a come-hither, motion against her g spot, as he suckled her clit. She felt her impending orgasm gather, his finger pulsed against her g spot, he hummed, or maybe it was a spell against her clit.  
She didn't know her eyes were pressed closed as she felt herself spiraling into her orgasm, her hands scrambled for purchase only to slip along the glass.

As she came down from her high, he spoke to her, voice low she dared not open her eyes at his depraved words coloring her cheeks.

"Come."

She opened her eyes, pushing the jacket off, clambering onto his lap. There was no shame at the Pavlovian response when he called her.  
He kissed her, lips tasting of her, she moaned rubbing herself along his length, the wool of his pants rough on her inner thighs as her lips pressed kisses against his clavicle.

"What do you want Hermione?"

"You"

She shivered as his head pressed against her opening.

"Me? I rather think not, I think you want my cock Hermione."

Her eyes slipped to half-mast, she smiled. He would never grow tired of this reaction to his voice, his words, her mask slipping away.  
She raised her hips, quivering at the feel of him against her as he settled himself at her opening.

"I want you."

"You have me."

She smiled slipping her hand under his shirt, feeling his heart beat against her hand, reveling in the fact even after all this time that this enigma of a man wanted her with this much passion.  
She began a tortuously slow movement down, his hand on her hips pressing her down, then a surge of his hips, and he filled her. That first moment, the delightful apex of being stretched, filled, his rough voice telling her she was Daddy's, his, he owned her; she tried to hold on to the edge of bliss as he had taught her but it slipped from her metaphorical fingers as her orgasm took her, rolling waves of pleasure making her head feel light, body drunk.

He laughed as she slumped against him, arms wrapping him a rose scented hug; he didn't urge her to move. He held her close hands gripping her hips, fingers nails marking half-moons into her ass, his voice still whispering tortuously lewd comments about the feel of her cunt, as he thrust into her. He took her harshly, hitting her cervix in a rush of sweet pain that made her moan. He gritted his teeth, breathing deeply, the car scented with her musk, the sound of flesh against flesh as he pounded into her. He lost himself her scent, his movements, the demanding pressure begging for release.  
Settling his head onto her shoulders as his body shook from the strength of his orgasm.

When he could speak, he pressed a kiss to her décolletage, murmuring, 'I love you wife."

Hermione smiled a sleepy smile, "And I you husband."

He lowered the partition, "Dominic, we'll skip the party and go home."

"Yes Sir."


End file.
